I've recently come to the realization that I'm much more anal-retentive than I believed I was. I tend to get real upset when some things don't go the way I want or if I forget something important. Maybe it's more obsessive-compulsive. Anyway, this seems to fit in nicely with this dream.

I've been having these recurring dreams where I'm in school and I can't find my locker or the classroom I have to go to. But most often I have the feeling I forgot about a class. It's like we're a month into the semester and I remember going to a history class at the beginning of the year, but haven't gone to one for weeks. I try to ask my other classmates, but I don't think they all have the same schedule as me or they're ignoring me.

That night, the dream continued...with a twist.

I was sitting in History class and it turned out I had in fact missed at least 2 classes...including an exam. I was freaking out. I never missed classes. The teacher was handing out the graded exams and I didn't know what to do. I was panicking. I pretended like nothing happened, hoping I had gone to the exam and forgot about it. The teacher made some indirect comment about some people missing classes and having missed the exam. Then the class was over.

I also confirmed I had been missing my Math and English classes.

This isn't really a weird story/dream; I just find it interesting that I'm having recurring dreams that are now following each other. To Be Continued?

================================================

This one's a mix of 70s Sexploitation and Zombie Holocaust type movies. (Movies where people end up stranded on some tropical island where some sort of experiment brought the dead back to life) That's not what the dream was about, but it had that cool weird feeling. In fact it was probably inspired by the fact I recently (shamefully) downloaded "Erotic Nights of the Living Dead".

Brains!

I was some sort of ATF agent trying to take down a gun dealer in the Caribbean. He was on the beach with his hot topless girlfriend, waiting for his buyer to arrive by boat. I was on a small island close-by, hiding in the reeds, keeping a close eye on him while reinforcements arrived, also by boat. Yes, reeds. It was a swamp and a Caribbean island by the sea. Dreams, you know.

Anyway, the deal was going down soon and the ATF boat was late. I decided to send my local contact -- a sexy native with 3 boobs -- to swim over there and distract him. I figured while the three of them were having sex, I'd have time to sneak over there and arrest the dealer. In typical 70s fashion, they started screwing without a word exchanged (she was a native and didn't speak English) and I sneaked/swam my way to their location.

The buyer's boat was arriving just as I go to the shore. I could something was wrong by the way it approached the quay. It was more drifting than being steered. It turned out the boat had been over-run by zombies and was filled with them. Also, they were slowly coming out of the sea.

The rest of the dream was me running away from zombies.

Holographic Crazy-Glue Brain

Boring day at work today, so 2 quickies. They're more weird than interesting.


I dreamt I was trying to fix a head. I'm not sure if it was my head or someone else's, just that I was trying to fix it. Someone had done a real number on it. The top had broken off and the brain had popped out. I looked everywhere for it and, when I found it, saw that the brain stem was also broken off. I held the stem awkwardly in place as I put the brain back in the head. I first put a drop of Crazy-Glue in the spine hole to make sure the brain stayed in place. I had fixed the head.

Later someone had cut my torso in half, right below the pectoral muscles. This was harder to fix since I was cut in half. I needed to 2 drops of Crazy-Glue, one each side of my spinal column, to put me back together.

I spent the rest of the dream bent in half, trying not to move too much until the glue dried.

I woke up with a nasty cramp in my back, right where I had been cut in half.

======================================================

I was off at a National Director's conference of some sorts and we were all sleeping at a hotel that turned out to be my parent's house. We all slept in sleeping bags in a big dorm.

It was the last day of the conference and I had gotten up early: I needed to see someone and I believed I would run into them at the hotel bar. It was a real swanky bar with a snooty maitre-d. I spent the whole day there, observing the patrons, most of which were holograms to make the place look like it was filled with rich people.

I never met the person and, at the end of the day, decided to go home. It was winter so it was already dark when I got out. Outside it was exactly like my place of work and I went to wait for the bus on the wrong side of the street. One of the waiters was also waiting for the bus. He started chatting me up and I learned he was also a hologram and he couldn't wait to get home to his family. I didn't have the heart to tell him that, since he wasn't real, his family and house probably didn't exist. They were probably memories that were implanted in him to make him believe he went home every night.

I got tired of waiting for the bus and decided to take drive home instead.

The Return

I've been away on parental leave for 3 months, so haven't had time to write up my dreams. But I took notes.

This one is 2-3 months old. These were my notes: "transfering Genius Killer Zombies(voodoo) crater, like sand pit small house on Parkdale, mansion inside, neighbours afraid of cops"

So here goes.

I was a detective escorting a dangerous criminal genius (think Hanibal Lecter) to...somewhere. It was me and 2 uniformed cops walking down the sidewalk of a semi-residential area . As we were walking past the small houses, he got away from us and ran into one. We called for back-up and cautiously followed him in. While this was one of those poor little white houses from the outside, it was a huge mansion inside. In fact it was one of HIS mansion, which he had filled with booby-traps. Being a super evil genius, he had planned for this eventuality.

The entrance was a typical big old house entrance: a long hallway with stairs to the upper floor on the left and some sort of sitting room on the right. We walked slowly to the end of the long hallway, avoiding the traps. At the end of the hallway was a mezzanine: a huge room with no ceiling, open to the upper floor's balconies. We could hear the criminal taunting us, but couldn't see him. The 2 uniformed officers went up to the balconies and were both stabbed or shot dead. But we never saw him.

Then back up arrived. Some sort of SWAT team of martial arts experts. One by they attacked and got killed. When Rob VanDam arrived, leaped up doing the splits to the mezzanine and got killed in mid-air, I knew we were in trouble. I ran outside to get whoever was out there to hide until like the army or something arrived. I went to the house next-door to tell them to go hide somewhere. It was one of those small town houses with an unpaved driveway, next to the house, leading to the back yard. There were 3-4 people in the driveway and I told them who I was and to get out of here. They just stared at me and were slowly backing away towards the backyard. I could tell they didn't like cops. I was following them saying, "Seriously, you have to get out of here, there's a psycho next door. I don't care what you guys have been doing, just hide!" But they just kept backing away and hid behind the house. I followed them to find out their backyard was actually a huge crater or sand pit, almost a kilometre long, that got deeper the farther it got from the house. It looked like a space ship had crash-landed and dug a trench. At the far end, there were some old containers, buses and trucks, and I figured it was as good as any a
place to hide.

It turned out the super genius criminal was also some kind of voodoo priest able to turn people into mindless zombies that would do his bidding. As I'm running towards the containers to hide, I'm being followed by slow-moving zombies.

Here the dream time-skips.

I'm hiding on some old bus with some other people. The crater is littered with zombies and some are trying to climb up to us. The criminal is somewhere higher, either on another truck or the lip of the crater, and we're trying to shoot each other down.

Because of the crater, my view is limited to the street through the house's driveway, but I can see explosions lighting up the clouds and the chaos in the street. The army or something has arrived and the city seems in chaos. It seems the zombies have taken over the city and the army is trying to fight them off. All I hear is screams and explosions. And the criminal is trying to shoot me down or get me to fall off the bus.

I think that's when I woke up

Kiss Me You Fools

I fond some old dreams! They all have to do with rock stars, for some reason.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------We were all staying at my girlfriend's parents' place in Florida (or somewhere else in the States) to go see a show. I'm not sure exactly who was there, a couple of my buddies for sure, but Dave Mustane was also there.

And he was being a dick.

He'd complain all the time, trash the place, be abusive to everyone, leave with the only key to the house (which meant we couldn't leave ourselves). When we'd complain, he'd just smile and told us off.

Finally, after the show, in the middle of the night, he decided "this place sucks, I'm going to see Hollywood" and left. In the morning we were pissed off because we couldn'T leave without him and we didn't know where he was.


============================

I (teen-aged me) was at a family barbeque at my parent's house and my teen-aged friend was there: young Dani Filth.

For some reason he didn't fit in. Mostly due to the fact that he did everything he could to not fit in: piss people off and shock them. But this being Dani Filth, it was all pretty childish. I don't remember all the details, except that he betrayed me at the end and tried to kill me.

But then I cut off his head with my light-saber.

What's the significance of this? dunno. Might be some deep-rooted resentment towards my parent for not letting me be Dani Filth with all his cool clothes and goth-hoes. Or it might be the fact that my parents are having a barbeque this week-end and I saw Star Wars last night.


========================

I had the most boring dream last night.

I was a standby/replacement at a KISS concert. I was to stay back-stage and replace a member of the band if he couldn't perform that night. Thing was I didn't know which member I was supposed to cover for, so I was a bit stressed. But I was even more bored than stressed since I had to stay backstage and pretend I liked it, for the whole boring show.

When Paul came backstage during a solo, I was too shy to ask which member I was supposed to cover.

I do remember Gene was about to spit blood (doing the bass "noises" he does), then swallowed it instead and started taunting the crowd ("Ha ha , you thought I was going to spit blood! Suckers!"). And I also remember they admitted the drummer wasn't Peter Criss...which was kinda obvious since the guy drumming was wearing Paul's Make-up.

I know it sounds kinda cool, but my dream lasted the whole damn show! That was boring.

Blair Witch Meets Generic Cop Movie Meets Buddy Comedy

I've been mostly dreaming about babies lately, but this one seemed interesting.

I was in my cabin in the woods, at the edge of a hill that led down to a lake. The reason I was there was that I was a suspended for not being able to solve the case of all those kidnapped kids. Did I mention I was a cop? There had been a string of kidnappings of kids around 4-5 years old and the Chief had suspended me for the usual clichés.

We were there, my partner and I, just passing the time in the cabin. I don't think he was suspended too, but was just there to pass the time with me. We were bored because our old TV was broken and the power was out.

During the night, I heard some voices echoing from the toilet. This seemed pretty normal: just sound reverberating through the pipes. But we decided to investigate early the next morning.

About 20 feet down the hill from my cabin, there was a trail that followed the lakeshore, about 5 foot above the shore line. We followed it. We came across all sorts of weird discarded things that seemed to have been just thrown down the hill, like a whole entertainment unit. My partner started looking at the TV and said we should bring it up to see if it worked. I said it looked suspiciously like my old one we'd thrown down the hill. He didn't seem to get it. I said we better keep going and that we could get it on the way back. Later we came across a broken computer desk, complete with broken computer. I was a little more interested with all the cables, but we had to keep going.

We came to the end of the trail to an old house in a clearing, the porch facing the trail. We knocked on the door and an old lady answered. She lived with another old lady and had a bunch of kids with her. Right there we got suspicious: how many 4-5 year old kids can you have at the same time? We identified ourselves as cops and said we wanted to see their basement. They were all nice and helpful, especially the kids, as they led us through the house to the basement.

We formed a line to go down the basement stairs: one lady, my partner, the other lady and some kids. Being the most cautious, I decided to go last. The kid right in front of me was weirding me out for some reason: something in his eyes. The basement was a typical house basement, with nothing special except for the room with a closed wooden door. My partner went in with the ladies and I waited a while.

I asked him a few times if he was OK, but he didn't answer. I barged in. The first old lady was there, staring at me; bald (she'd removed her wig) and wearing lots of make up (almost like a clown, but not funny). All I could see was her face, but out of my peripheral vision I could the other old lady with the kids doing some sort of séance around a table. My partner had been hypnotized and was facing the corner. I saw all this in a fraction of a second and then closed my eyes. I knew I'd been hypnotized too, and that I'd lose control if I opened my eyes. I pulled out my gun a fired blindly.

Later, it was the end of the movie. I'd apparently hit the old lady and there were a bunch of cop cars around the house. The Chief was there, telling me I was a loose canon but I'd gotten the job done and other cop clichés. Apparently, the old ladies were planning to use hypnotized kids to take over the world or something.

My partner asked if we could go back for the TV. Stupid comedy relief.

Look at what they did to my little black box!

This one was full of details, so I forgot most of them. I'll try to make this coherent.

My girlfriend and me were in our house when we noticed a car parked in the street in front. The car had been there for an hour or so already, and my girlfriend had to leave for work. Soon after she left, a cab pulled up behind the car. The guy in the car was apparently waiting for the cab, because he got out of his car and came to knock on my door. I went outside to talk to him.

The cab passenger rolled down his window and I saw that it was John Travolta. The guy started telling me how he represented Mr Travolta who was interested in buying my house. He gave me tons of reasons and papers showing how much money I would be making and how this was a very profitable deal for me.

As I was going through the papers he sneaked into the house. From inside the house, he opened the basement door and continued with his spiel. For some reason he was wearing a Halloween mask. He started telling me how important this deal was compared to my puny government salary. I was infuriated: the little shit had gone through my papers in the house to know how much I made! I told him to get the hell off my property and that the only reason I wasn't beating him up was because he was a lawyer and Mr Travolta was watching.

[...this is probably a "new dream", but the mood followed from the last]
Some time later that day, I was at City Hall in front of a board of inquiry. I don't remember why, just that there was the Mayor and a bunch of committee members asking for details on something I'd accomplished. I was pretty curt with them because I was still pissed off from before.

The next day, there was this big fancy black-tie party at City Hall in my honour. Something to do with the previous days inquiry. They were giving me the key to the City or something. During the mixer, I was talking with the Mayor saying how honoured I was and how I was sorry for having been so curt with them the previous day. I'd been in a bad mood but it was nothing to do with them.

Sometime during the party, we realized that the basement of City Hall had been taken over by cannibals (or something) and they were trying to get to us. Some woman came in screaming, saying that they'd caught and mistreated her. Instead of killing and/or raping her, they'd shaved her privates down to a little square of black hair (a Hitler) and then let her go. "Look at what they did to my little black box!", she cried. The Mayor and me fought really hard not to laugh.

Later I was with the Mayor, holed up in his office. We were trying to come up with a plan to deal with the cannibals.

And that's all I remember.

I do remember there was something about being a child trapped in a private school (a big square-ish building)...while at the same time being stuck out of it and trying to get in by climbing the walls. And this old lady teacher and/or orphanage madam being strict but kind.

Home, Sweet Home Invasion

Some time ago...

I had a weird dream (of course) on the week-end where my girlfriend and me were the victims of a home invasion. K.J. and The Rick came in with guns and kept us hostage in our home for 5-7 days.

They never said what they wanted. Money I guess.

What was real awkward, was that, at the time, there was some serious cunstruction going on in my backyard/driveway, with cranes and bulldozers and a 20 foot deep hole.Finally The Rick got bored and left...probably to go take care of his kid. A while after that, K.J. broke down and started crying, saying how sorry he was and that it was all The Rick's idea.

He felt so bad that, to make it up to me, gave me a super-rare Iron Maiden album. It was "7th Son of a 7th Son" but the cover was a big close up of Eddie who looked more like he did on the cover of "Somewhere in Time".

I called the cops anyway.

Muppets Beanie-Baby Madness

I had this one a few nights ago and let it fester in my mind until a coherent story formed out of it.

It was Halloween night and we were visiting small towns with haunted wagon-rides and haunted houses. Many of the attractions had treat bags hanging from trees and houses. I remember one ride where we were running through the woods, trying to grab treat bags on the way.

When we finally got home, I saw that some of the bags had Muppets Beanie-Babies in them. I think I had Kermit and a few others. But the thing was: I didn't have all of them. This really upset my obsessive/collective nature. I kept trying to figure out how to get the whole set. This was a difficult task since these were not the kind of toys you could just buy in retail stores. They could be found in vending machines and goody bags and things like that.

I knew I had a busy day at work the next day, but I had to get them all. I was pretty sure I was missing Gonzo and Miss Piggy, but I didn't even know for sure which Muppet existed. So I got to work and, for some reason, everyone needed me to help them. I tried to set everyone up so they could do their work and sneaked out of the building.

I got down to the basement parking and into my car. As I was coming up out of the parking garage, I almost hit 3 men: my Assistant Commissioner, some other important man and Jean Chretien. All I hoped was that they hadn't seen me.

I thought about returning to the towns, hoping there might still be some bags left. But as I drove through them, I could see everything had been cleaned up. So I figured I'd go to the library and do some research on the toys. I could at least figure out which ones existed and maybe where I could get some.

As I was looking through some big encyclopedias, all the people I had ditched at work arrived at the library and came to talk to me. I just said I was doing research for work and a bunch of other lies.

I ran out of the library and started running through a field. Some of them started following me.
Then I woke up.

Tortured Kid in the Hall

It's time for another instalment of "Dodson's Dreams"

Someone had kidnapped my girlfriend's niece. The same guy had kidnapped her nephew a few years back. We'd had to do all sorts of weird quests and errands to get him back ("To get your nephew back, you must first..."). Though we did get him back in the end, we weren't sure this time we'd get his sister back.

It was a very distressing situation.

This time was no different as I remember us having to go to some gas station/truck stop in the middle of nowhere looking for some clues. Finally we had tracked him down to some Ocean-side Hotel resort and were there with a bunch of CIA agents. We figured he must have some sort of secret hide-out on a nearby island, so the CIA crew left for the island in boats as we stayed behind.

While they were gone, I discovered that the kidnapper was actually in the hotel: it was Bruce McCulloh from Kids in the Hall. (For those who don't know, Bruce is a pretty small guy). So I then proceeded to beat the living shit out of him for all the grief he'd given us.

Though he was a criminal mastermind, he was a pretty wimpy little bitch, and after a few hours of beating and torturing him, I was feeling bad for the little guy. His face was all bloody, his jaw broken and I had broken all his fingers. I was actually feeling like shit for having tortured this basically helpless little turd and couldn't bring myself to kill him, even though he deserved it. I figured I'd wait for the CIA team to come back: they'd kill him for sure.

When they did come back, it turned out they were Soviet Secret police working with him all along. They picked up the beat up little guy and whisked him away on their boat. I wasn't really pissed he'd gotten away: I was still feeling like a shit for what I'd done to him.

I woke up feeling like a bastard and the feeling stayed with me half the day.

I'm so gay...then I woke up

I woke up in bed next to Angelina Jolie. She was convinced I was her husband and wanted to make love. While I would've loved to do it, it felt wrong to do it under false pretenses.

I spent the whole dream being pursued by her around her house: me trying to convince her I was not her husband; her not believing me, trying to get me to remember I was her husband and make love.

She was starting to convince me...then I woke up.

My Syringe in a Box

Another unfinished quicky.


I was in the hospital, preparing the room for my pregnant girlfriend. I had to do something pretty simple, like putting a syringe in a box, but I was having a hard time doing it.

In frustration I decided to go and take a walk outside. But every time I left the hospital, reality changed: I would become some vampire-zombie hunter in a post-apocalyptic future war zone. I knew things had changed, but at the same time I didn't.

Trying to exterminate the vampires, I decided I needed a gurney, so I went back in the hospital (which was now an abandoned building) to get the old one I could see through the door. For some reason, I could see that the lobby was now an old rusted elevator.

As soon as I re-entered the hospital, reality changed again and I returned to the room to try and fit the syringe in the box.

Then I woke up...never having put my syringe in a box for my girlfriend.

I am not an armoire!

I ate some chilli before going to bed, so it's time for another "Dodson's Dream"©

I guess I'm easily influenceable. Last night I read a (fictional?) story about a guy who had a car accident in which his pregnant girlfriend died. He blacked out for a while and finally ended up in an insane asylum because he would hear her voice and see their dead baby stalking him.

A real chick-flick story.

Anyhoo:
I was back in University and, like always, it was a hotel party night. I remember I was getting tired, so I decided to lay down for a while, fully planning to return to the party after resting my eyes. Next thing I know it's next morning and I'm feeling really disoriented. I don't know what it is, but I know I forgot something and it's important. Probably something I did during the night. I think I'm in my hotel room, but I can't focus on who, if anyone, is there.

It turns out I'm not in the hotel anymore: I'm in an asylum and everyone thinks I'm crazy. Probably something to do with what happened last night. Wish I could remember what. Some of the people from University come to visit me and they're all being real nice and condescending to the nut-job (i.e. Me). One of the people visiting me was Alain (Chad met him once) some guy in my classes.

Then it was group therapy time at the asylum. Since Alain was visiting at the time, he came to the session with me. The "group sessions" turned out to be the entire asylum in a huge cafeteria. We were all sitting at those one-piece cafeteria tables-with-chairs, and I had Alain on one side and the Bender robot from Futurama on the other. The exercize we were doing was to have everyone write a sentence on a piece of paper and place it in a box. Then the facilitator would pick a paper at random and write the sentence on the black-board. Patients would then take turns changing parts of the sentence.

Alain was trying to get me to participate, because he thought this would help me get better. I thought this was really boring and wasn't paying attention until my sentence, which I had painstakingly written to be grammatically perfect, got picked: "L'armoire est rarement utilisée comme un commode". One of the psychiatrists was going around asking if we wanted to go up to the board and write changes to the sentence. He asked me and I grinned, thinking "You fool, it's my sentence. It's pefect! I'll show you!" But then Bender piped up: "Don't listen to him, he's yankin' ya. It's his sentence. I'll go!" So he went to the black-board and changed the sentence to "Je suis rarement utilisée comme un commode". Him being a robot, everyone seemed to think this was extremely funny, so they all laughed and cheered and applauded him.

Then I woke up.

Dodson's Dream---an insert

This one is not a complete story (when are dreams complete stories?), so I'm not sure if you'll find it enjoyable. I was trying to dream of Joeee, but it didn't work :)


I'm not sure it was me, but it started with an undertaker reminiscing about his life story and the family business.

I was about 8 years old, walking down a path in the backyard with my dad. We were leaving the wake room going towards the embalming building. "I know I told you to be nice with our clients, but that doesn't mean you should try to be their friend and make them laugh. This was a wake, you know!" We got to the embalming building and went in.

There were 2 corpses of old men on the tables. My father went to see the first one, because he seemed to think something was wrong. Unlike the other corpse, it was still fully clothed and holding some things. As my dad was looking at him, he started moving his arms and opened his eyes. "He he! Fooled you! When my friend died I took his things and dressed like him so you would think I was him and dead." The old man was obviously senile and my dad was trying to reason with him. There was an old folks home close by and my father was used to dealing with senile old people, so he was trying to be nice with the man.

While he was doing this, I was wandering aimlessly and had gotten between the 2 tables. The other old man, the dead one, spoke to me: "What are you going to do with your kitty?" Apparently I was holding my pet cat in my arms. "My mom says he's going to have joint problems and we need to put him to...to sleep". It was hard to say because I was pretty sad at having to put my cat to sleep. Also, I was really ashamed to be talking about killing my cat in front of a man who had recently died. It seemed kind insensitive and unfair to him.

"That's right, we have to put him down before he suffers", my father said from the other table-side.
"But he's a young cat. How old is he?", asked the dead man.
"He's four I think", I replied.
"He won't have any joint problems until he's well over 10 years old. Why kill him now?"
"My mom says we have to do it now before he suffers"


Then I woke up...glad my cat wasn't put to sleep.

Du-Du-Du Du-Du-Du Du (Mario Bros theme music)

I had this dream Thursday night, while still very feverish.

It started like a super Mario Bros. game. Me and another were on the side of a huge water pool (like in Marine Land) and needed to get to the other side: we were trying to reach some kind of wise oracle. The guy said we had to wait for Bowser (the boss in Super Mario) to hit the bottom of the pool. So Bowser jumps in the water and starts sinking, a killer whale goes buy him, and he hits the bottom. Then the plateforms around the pool flip up. As we're making our way on the plateforms, the other guy (which turns out was my brother) picks up a pack of cigarettes. The plateforms were weird; made of white plastic, like some high-tech conveyer belt. We had to be careful, some of the plateforms we weren't supposed to step on. Anytime we did, they would flash red. Hit too many and Bowser floats up to the surface and we'd have to start over.

We finally got to the oracle and he was standing behind what looked like a Sears cosmetics counter. The oracle turned out to be a cartoon dog that looked a lot like Beegle Beagle or Hong Kong Phooey from Hannah Barbara cartoons (basically a generic white dog with long black ears). So Isabelle asked him her question: "I need to know what to answer my students if they ask me what the best dandruff shampoo is." We were trying to be respectful since the dog was supposed to be this wise oracle, but he was being a dick: "What? You excpect me to say 'Head N Shoulders'? hum...Why don't YOU tell me what the best dandruff shampoo is?" Which was where I was supposed to come in and do my part: "Because that's not HER job." I grabbed him and shook him around a bit; which was easy because, being a skinny cartoon dog, he was a real push-over.

He then called his body guard: Hector the bull-dog from the Tweety and Sylvester cartoons, which I had to fight in a ring. While he was a bull-dog, he was still just 2 feet high and a cartoon, so he weighed nothing. I grabbed his front paws and spun him around for a while, then threw him in a corner. Birds stated circling his head.

Then the next guy came in: a slick-back latino came in with his coach and manager. He looked a lot like Sancho from the Orgasmo movie. We fought a bit, UFC style, until I got him in this wicked hold. He was on his back and I had my knees on his shoulders, I had one hand on his throat and the other was pulling his leg up behind my head (I know this sounds impossible and gay). He tapped out.

But that wasn't it. He was pissed. He was yelling and screaming in Latino, pointing at his belt in a glass display case, something about him still being the champion and how this was his family's honour. I just said "Yeah yeah whatever. Just give us what we need and we'll leave." He got really suprized, shocked really, that I wasn't impressed by all his honours and stuff. He was still trying to figure how get the better of me. For some reason he knew my weakness for the "How It's Made" TV show and offered to show me how they make their pastries.

He brought me to their kitchen in the back. All the ustensils and tools were gold plated and everything had this air of fantasy. All the while he was standing close behind me, whispering in my ear how they made things, trying to seduce me (geez, never realized how gay this dream was). When I came out of the kitchen, I was pretty happy: I'd seen all those cool machines and knew how they made their things. Isabelle, who had been waiting all this while, was sitting on a bench and she asked, rather impatiently: "Well?"

I was just grinning.

Then I woke up.

It Starts...

You guays asked for it.

I'll upload dreams as I have them, plus I'll upload older ones as I find them.

Even if Blogs are ghey.